The Winter's Tale
By
William Shakespeare
Act V:
Scene 3

PAULINA.Good my lord, forbear:The ruddiness upon her lip is wet;You'll mar it if you kiss it; stain your ownWith oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain?

LEONTES.No, not these twenty years.

PERDITA.So long could IStand by, a looker on.

PAULINA.Either forbear,Quit presently the chapel, or resolve youFor more amazement. If you can behold it,I'll make the statue move indeed, descend,And take you by the hand, but then you'll think, — Which I protest against, — I am assistedBy wicked powers.

LEONTES.What you can make her doI am content to look on: what to speak,I am content to hear; for 'tis as easyTo make her speak as move.

PAULINA.It is requir'dYou do awake your faith. Then all stand still;Or those that think it is unlawful businessI am about, let them depart.

LEONTES.Proceed:No foot shall stir.

PAULINA.Music, awake her: strike. — [Music.]'Tis time; descend; be stone no more; approach;Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come;I'll fill your grave up: stir; nay, come away;Bequeath to death your numbness, for from himDear life redeems you. — You perceive she stirs.

[HERMIONE comes down from the pedestal.]

Start not; her actions shall be holy asYou hear my spell is lawful: do not shun herUntil you see her die again; for thenYou kill her double. Nay, present your hand:When she was young you woo'd her; now in ageIs she become the suitor?

LEONTES.[Embracing her.] O, she's warm!If this be magic, let it be an artLawful as eating.

POLIXENES.She embraces him.

CAMILLO.She hangs about his neck:If she pertain to life, let her speak too.

POLIXENES.Ay, and make it manifest where she has liv'd,Or how stol'n from the dead.

PAULINA.That she is living,Were it but told you, should be hooted atLike an old tale; but it appears she lives,Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while. — Please you to interpose, fair madam: kneel,And pray your mother's blessing. — Turn, good lady;Our Perdita is found.

PAULINA.There's time enough for that;Lest they desire upon this push to troubleYour joys with like relation. — Go together,You precious winners all; your exultationPartake to every one. I, an old turtle,Will wing me to some wither'd bough, and thereMy mate, that's never to be found again,Lament till I am lost.

LEONTES.O peace, Paulina!Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent,As I by thine a wife: this is a match,And made between's by vows. Thou hast found mine;But how, is to be question'd: for I saw her,As I thought, dead; and have, in vain, said manyA prayer upon her grave. I'll not seek far, — For him, I partly know his mind, — to find theeAn honourable husband. — Come, Camillo,And take her by the hand, whose worth and honestyIs richly noted, and here justifiedBy us, a pair of kings. — Let's from this place. — What! look upon my brother: — both your pardons,That e'er I put between your holy looksMy ill suspicion. — This your son-in-law,And son unto the king, whom heavens directing,Is troth-plight to your daughter. — Good Paulina,Lead us from hence; where we may leisurelyEach one demand, and answer to his partPerform'd in this wide gap of time, since firstWe were dissever'd: hastily lead away!